


Blanket Fort Confessions

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Reset Button [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Blanket Forts, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sciles, regained memory, season 4 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2183064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that his memories have returned, Scott knows how Stiles lied to him. Did Scott really love his best friend or was it all the result of Stiles taking advantage of him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blanket Fort Confessions

It took time to sort through the memories. Years of images crashing through his head all at once, jumbled and needing to be carefully placed back in order. It wasn’t easy, but once his mother had stopped crying with relief at having her son back, she helped him work through the mess until things started to make sense again. The tea helped bring clarity and Deaton was there when the headaches started, easing him through the worst of it as his mind pulled itself back together.

His friends were ecstatic to have him back. Kira practically tackled him in her enthusiasm and was brave enough to steal a kiss that left both of them blushing. Malia regarded him with quiet suspicion until she had to finally admit the alpha was back and paced protectively at his back. Derek didn’t say much, but Scott could see the worry easing from the corners of his eyes and he found a way to keep brushing against the beta to reassure him through touch without being too overt. Lydia was the one who watched with thinned lips and a calculating expression, seeing more about him than he was comfortable with. No one mentioned Stiles.

Scott didn’t know how to function, even as the last of the memories fell into place and Deaton pronounced he was good as new. His other half was missing, he’d never been so angry or so hurt that he couldn’t just forgive Stiles after a day or so. He didn’t even know what to say. Just because he remembered didn’t mean the feelings were any less confusing. His best friend, how could he keep his life together without the one constant that had always been by his side? The boy sat on the edge of his bed, phone in his hands and fingers hovering over the keys. This was not forgiveness. Scott didn’t know what it was anymore.

_[Text] We need to talk._

___

Scott was okay. He heard from his Dad, of all people. Just his daily update on all things supernatural and bizarre in Beacon Hills. He didn’t press Stiles about why he wasn’t the one to share the news. Stiles pretended that he was a functioning human being. He showed up at classes, but couldn’t force himself to care about anything other than Scott’s empty chair. 

Malia wouldn’t look at him. That was okay; Stiles wasn’t sure he could face her. Kira kept a painful distance. Lydia looked as unimpressed as ever. He had to shake down Liam to get answers that were worth anything, to hear when Scott thought he’d be coming back to school, but the Beta wolf watched him with a new sort of disdain that Stiles hadn’t seen before - at least, on his face. It was good to see people had Scott’s back. Stiles was supposed to be one of them.

He still counted down the days until they were supposed to… Not speak, but until they were supposed to be in the same room together. Stiles had a chance to do something. He had a chance to do something every time he picked up his phone.

Scott beat him to it.

_[Text:] Where when_

He answered almost immediately. It took him a lot longer to find the courage to send his next text.

_[Text:] Are you OK_

___

_[Text] My house. Now._

Scott didn’t answer the question. He wasn’t okay, but he couldn’t talk about it like this. He flopped back on his bed, wonder what the hell he was going to say. Things couldn’t go back to the way they used to be; too much had happened in such a short time. Thirteen years of being inseparable changed in a handful of days. He couldn’t forget what it was like to be innocent again and the way the world seemed to light up when Stiles pulled him close. There wasn’t a way to separate the way he felt with the way it used to be. Stiles knew him better than anyone on earth, he’d be the only one who could mess with his feelings like this and leave his heart in knots.

He wanted to forget and go back to the way things were. He’d wanted that before too. Allison was right, he couldn’t run from this any more than he could run from the memories that threatened to drag him down into darkness. The only way to carry it all was to face it first.

“Mom?” He cracked open his door and yelled down the stairs.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just…Stiles is coming over. Can you let him up when he gets here?”

Melissa frowned, knowing about the rift between her boys and not quite understanding why. “I’ll let him up.”

“Thanks, mom!” Scott closed his door softly and turned to look at his room, crossing his arms as he thought. Coming to a decision, he tore the room apart and started rebuilding.

___

It was a seven minute drive to Scott’s house; four in an emergency, twelve if they were playing Whack-a-Gnome. Stiles took that much time convincing himself to get out of his room, to get himself dressed, prepared for… He didn’t exactly know what, but he was going to do something. Stiles was sure of it. Scott said  _now,_  and he should have been jumping through every hoop he could find to get to him. Stiles was terrified. He couldn’t not wait for a reply to the second text. It never came.

Melissa looked at him with unabashed curiosity when he walked in. He took the stairs two at a time, and he was sure Scott could have heard his racing heart from a block away. He didn’t know what more there was to say. Every defense he could possibly muster had already crumbled at Scott’s feet. Stiles wanted the impossible. He wanted things to go back to the way they used to be (he didn’t know if that meant before or after Scott had lost his memories).

Stiles didn’t think he’d ever had to knock to get into Scott’s room, but he knocked now.

___

“Come in.”

The room looked like some kind of weird maze, Scott had stolen every blanket and sheet in the house to build the twisting fort that stretched from wall to wall.  It was an elaborate thing put together will pillowed walls and couch cushions he’d stolen without his mother noticing. The kind of thing that would have made a 10 year old proud.

Scott lounged in the heart of the maze, bowl of popcorn set and laptop set up with a pirated copy of Robocop queued and ready to go. The static electricity from the blankets caused his hair to spike in every direction, but he didn’t seem to even notice as he reached for a handful of popcorn. He remembered this day the way it really had happened, not the myth that Stiles had created for him. It just stuck with him. Why this? Why this day and this memory out of any of the ones he could have picked. It wasn’t like they hadn’t spent almost every day together since they’d met, there must have been something more romantic or more memorable to pick. Or why pick anything real at all, Stiles could have told him anything and he would have believed every word because he wanted to believe.

The only way to get answers was to ask. “Why?”

___

Stiles gasped in quiet awe, taking in the room with the kind of appreciation only a fellow connoisseur could have for a delicate craft. He ruined it all by nearly knocking over Scott’s east wall and cursed to himself as he realigned the pillows that squished against the door, but Stiles didn’t think twice about getting to his knees and crawling through the maze. Everything was warm, and safe. It felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, and when he found Scott, hidden in the center, like the loveliest surprise in a chocolate egg, it took everything Stiles had in him not to tackle him to the ground.

Scott didn’t have a huge room, and the last time Fort SticCall was up, they had an entire floor to play with. He didn’t have to lunge at his best friend. Sitting down, their knees touched, and something in Stiles’ chest unwound.

He dropped a paper bag between them, in it the last packet of popcorn in his house, unsalted and plain, because of his Dad, but still - popcorn. “I wanted to ask you. Gimme another chance…”

He’d had a speech planned, an honest-to-God speech, with witty anecdotes and poop jokes, and groveling. It wasn’t enough.

Scott was the most wonderful person Stiles had ever known. He’d done this. He’d made all of this, but there was still so much pain in his eyes. Scott should have had to fight this hard.

"Do you remember… I guess you do. It was the first half of the movie. We were talking about everything we liked better than the first. It was that scene, where RoboCop was going through training and he kept slowing down because he was scared, so they fixed him. You said - that was the worst thing they could do to him. It sucked."

He met Scott’s gaze evenly, sad and solemn. “And I thought about… What you looked like when you said you were fine, after everything, the Nogitsune, Meredith. You said, ‘I’m fine,’ and it was fucking terrifying… And I couldn’t get it out of my head, that from that you’d - you got to where we were, then. You still wanted to go to college, and you were talking about training Greenberg. You got past it. You were still fighting, and you got past the worst, and I wanted to kiss you so bad. I wanted to - it was the first time I  _needed_  to, and I knew. I loved you… I love you.”

Stiles thought about their knees touching. The first thing Scott wanted to know had been how they met… And how long they’d been together. Stiles only knew how long he’d wanted them to. “I just show it in the shittiest way possible.”

His voice faltered, and he dug his nails into his palm, leaving crescent shaped indents in soft skin. “I never meant to hurt you, Scott. I just wanted… I liked thinking I was the one who made you happy.”

___

Scott remembered that, it would have been terrible not to feel. He had a bad habit of shutting down when things were too rough, disconnected and numb so he could keep focused on the things that needed finishing and the people who counted on him until there was time later to break. But it seemed that there was never enough time to break down between the emergencies anymore, he had to carry the cracks and the scars with him and find a way to breathe. It hurt, but hurting was better than nothing at all. Out of all the things they’d been through, _that_  was what made Stiles love him?

“You should have told me.” It would have made everything simple. He might even have said yes, it was hard to know what his reaction would have been now with all the feelings so tainted. Stiles had been his constant, his other half for as long as he could remember. He’d never thought about him like this before. _That wasn’t true._ Without his memories, he’d opened his eyes and the first word he thought of when he saw Stiles was pretty. Scott could still see him like that, free from the years they’d been together like the most familiar thing in his life was somehow new. Stiles was pretty, his eyes were bright and ringed with dark lashes, he sucked on his lips when he was nervous, there was the barest hint of scruff like he hadn’t shaved. Not that shaving was ever much of a problem, the thought of Stiles being able to grow any kind of facial hair made him grin.

“You fucked up.” Scott didn’t bother softening the blow. “You lied to me when I needed you to tell me the truth. You took advantage of me when I didn’t know how to say no and you made me feel things for you that I…you didn’t give me a chance to know if it was real. I’ve had enough people messing with my head, Stiles. I don’t need you to be one of them.”

The boy sighed, leaning back on his hands but he didn’t pull away. “But…if you could do that day over again before all this happened and it was just us in a blanket fort like lame kids, what would you say to me?”

___

This should have been Stiles’ chance to do the right thing. He just didn’t know what it was. There was Kira to think about, maybe; they’d been… Something. Stiles didn’t even know anymore. There was what Scott wanted to hear, and what he deserved to hear. All he knew was that he’d go to the ends of the Earth if it meant keeping his best friend. 

There were so many things Stiles should have done differently. There were no answer that could instantly fix what he’d done. He had the opportunity to rewrite the past, but he did so at the expense of his dearest friend, but maybe he could find a way to make things better, even if it was just the first step.

He met Scott with a steady gaze, with red-rimmed eyes and a cautious smile.  _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry._  Daringly, he lifted up his shirt. On top of his belly, he’d glued a googly eye and a button. Stiles pretended he didn’t hear how his voice caught. “Hoped I could get you to make a fort with me. I would’ve…”

He cleared his throat, started again. Once upon a time, he could Scott to laugh the loudest, and Stiles never had to let go. “Hey hot stuff, you’re incredible. I’d die if you gave me a kiss? Or - or let me… Let me take you out to dinner.” 

He had to look away. His nails left indents on his skin. “I know - I’m sorry this messes things up. You should answer any way you want, but please, Scott. Let me keep my best friend.”

___

Googly eyes and belly rolls, Stiles had come prepared for anything. The thought made the corner of Scott’s mouth twitch in a crooked smile. It meant Stiles came ready to try. To fight. He was pulling out the big guns and knew exactly how to make him laugh.

Stiles looked just as miserable as Scott felt. They argued like any friends, but it was almost always forgotten as soon as it was over. Scott couldn’t remember ever having a fight drag out so long or have the wound still be so tender.

The boy reached out to cup the side of his friend’s face, rubbing his thumb beneath Stiles’s eye. Had he been crying? Scott leaned forward across that almost impossible distance between them and pressed his lips against the other boy. He kissed Stiles slowly, lips parted but just skirting that edge between chaste and something more. Scott shared a breath between them, relearning what it felt like, what Stiles tasted like.

“I loved you.” He said, words spoken against his friend’s mouth. Whatever Stiles had said to mislead him, the feeling had been all his own. Scott had smiled so brightly his cheeks had hurt and for a handful of days, it had been like it used to be before the bite and monsters and everyone around him dying. It had been simple and if things didn’t turn out the way they did and they were both still just dumb, invisible nobodies, would it have been that easy? “You’re not going to lose me.” The wolf promised, picking his words with care. “I loved you and I think I might want the chance to figure if I still do.”

___

Stiles closed his eyes, curling into Scott’s touch reflexively. It hadn’t even been a week, but he missed him so much. He didn’t know how he was supposed to keep going without him. Stiles had always known they were close. Enough people thought they were being original when they made ‘dating’ jokes for him to get the memo, but he never understood how bad it was until he’d been forced to cut Scott out of his life. 

Stiles was kissing back before he realized what had happened. Scott loved him, and this was goodbye. Scott loved him, or could have loved him. Scott loved him when he was brainwashed and broken, and it took Stiles too long to understand what was being offered.

"What…?"

He wanted to ask how much of their time together Scott remembered. He needed to know how much of it could have counted for anything. There was so much of his best friend that he’d recognized when they were together, but Scott was so much more than that blank slate.

"How are you going to do that?" He asked softly. His hands twitched by his sides, his shirt still hitched up around his ribs. Stiles ached to touch him. Scott was so close it drove him mad.

___

The wolf huffed a laugh, pinching Stiles’s stomach below the googly eye as it rolled up at him in plastic dismay. “Slowly? Carefully? With you telling me the truth about everything. You can’t lie to me, Stiles, not to  _me_.” Scott licked his lips, inches from his friend’s face and dark eyes intense as he looked for answers.

“I need to know what’s real.” He traced his fingers over the other boy’s mouth. “I want to know if I still think you’re so pretty.” Scott knew every mole, could picture the turned up nose in his sleep, knew exactly how Stiles’s eyes could soften when they shared scars no one else could see. “I want to know what I feel when I kiss you.” He leaned forward those few inches, kiss more urgent than before as he slipped his tongue between his friend’s lips and took his time exploring every part of him.

Scott exhaled a long breath as he pulled back. He took one of his friend’s hands in his own, hooking Stiles’s arm around his waist. “I want to know what I feel when you touch me. I want a chance to fall in love. If we’re gonna do this thing I don’t know if it’ll work, but I can’t remember the last time I was happy like that. I’d like to know if it was because I didn’t know any better or because it there was something that I should have seen before. I want to start at the beginning.”

___

Stiles was going to give Scott everything.

First he was going to kiss  _the Hell_  out of him.

All at once his grip was too tight, and he lunged at his best friend, pinning Scott to the ground. Half the blanket fort collapsed around them, and someone knocked over the popcorn bowl, and Stiles had too many elbows? But he had Scott. He had Scott, and he was kissing him, and nothing else in the world mattered when Stiles knew exactly what to do to make his best friend laugh. He kissed him hard, left his mouth flushed and pink, and kissed him again before Scott could change his mind. Relief bubbled up his throat, and Stiles couldn’t stop touching his face.

The curve of Scott’s smile, the bridge of his nose, his dimples, his mouth! Stiles kissed him like he didn’t know what slowly or carefully meant, holding on like he thought Scott would disappear all over again, and choking down a sob, trapping Scott under his weight. 

"I’m sorry," he croaked, words wet with shame. "I thought we were -"

He leaned in close, nuzzling into Scott’s cheek. His heart beat rabbit-fast, but panic was slowly fading into something so much sweeter. “I glued a button to my stomach for you, dude, yes!”

_I’m sorry._

"Yes!"

___

Scott squawked, all of his moral superiority gone in a tumble of limbs and blankets and grinning like his heart had never been broken. Maybe he should have been less willing to forgive, but it was  _Stiles_. There wasn’t anyone else on earth that he trusted more besides his mom, they were a pair, inseparable. They’d been through hell and back in the past year, they’d almost killed each other and they’d lost so much, but they still had each other when everything else was so uncertain. He might have been hurt and feeling betrayed, but Scott would forgive Stiles anything. It wasn’t magic and it didn’t fix all the wounds, but it let Scott take that first step towards moving on.

That’s what Allison said he should do, right? No running away from the things that hurt, he had to face them and find a way to let go. Allison Argent hadn’t been afraid to love no matter how difficult or how impossible or how many mistakes he’d made. He’d be letting her down if he did anything less.

He wrapped his arms around Stiles’s neck, popcorn kernels crunching beneath him as he kissed back. Scott had to admit, it really was nice. However confused everything else was, kissing Stiles still felt so good and he was grateful for the simplicity. “Wait…you didn’t superglue it to your stomach did you? Stiles!” He covered his face with his hands and laughed.

___

"What? No!" Stiles protested, aghast. He wiggled his way over Scott, splaying himself on top of him as he hitched up his shirt. The googly eye googled him balefully. "Just that white glue stuff, dude, come on it’s  _ow!_ ”

Bad idea - it was a bad idea to try and rip off the button. Stiles learned from his mistakes.

He couldn’t stop grinning, but that was more thanks to the wonderful boy beneath him than valuable life lessons. He didn’t need to look far over his shoulder to kiss Scott, sweet and tender, slowly guiding Scott’s hand to rest on his belly. 

"Scott McCall," he murmured. "Will you watch RoboCop with me? Like a date?"

___

Scott splayed his hand over the skin of Stiles’s stomach, picking idly at his brand new button nipple.  He wanted this, whatever it was. There was a reason he’d looked up into Stiles’s face without knowing anything about his life and had just assumed he was supposed to be with this boy. That they were together and that Scott loved him. There was a reason he’d been so desperate to touch, barely home before they’d explored each other in ways he knew now they’d never tried. There was a reason that no matter what, Scott could forgive and the idea of losing Stiles was still the worst thing he could ever think of.

Was it love? He didn’t know, but he thought it might be. He hoped it was.

“Stiles Stilinski, I thought you’d never ask.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing collaborative work/RP!
> 
> You can find Tmautog's awesome fics on [tumblr](http://tmautog.tumblr.com/tagged/writing) and keep up with this story [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune/TruebornAlpha [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


End file.
